An Exercise in Concentration
by Steelfeathers
Summary: ...or how to drive the Autobots insane in 100 words or less. A series of small drabbles. Pure crack. First: Red Alert. Second: Optimus Prime
1. Chapter 1

An Exercise in Concentration

Or

How to drive Red Alert insane in 100 words or less.

Warning: Pure crack.

* * *

><p>"What's two plus two?"<p>

"Four."

"BBBBBZZT! Wrong. It's _fish_."

"That…makes no sense."

"Sure it does. If you combine two two's, you get fish!"

Muttering. "…what kind of bizarre human ritual could possibly combine two numerical concepts to produce fish?"

"Only the dangerous and possibly space-time-continuum-warping kind."

"Dangerous! That makes it a security risk! I must go write a policy disallowing any warping of the space-time continuum, _especially_ when caused by the production of fish!"

"You do that." Pause. "Oh, and Red?"

"Can't you see I'm busy sending out a memo?"

"Don't forget that two plus two can also equal five. In an equally threatening manner."

"…Oh dear. I believe this must be researched in greater depth."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Red."<p>

"Have you been properly scanned before being given access to this area?"

"….Red, we're in a parking lot."

"Precisely. Who knows what damage any errant fish could do to this structure?"

"….Don't tell me. You made a machine that scans for _fish_."

"AND the number five. Speaking of which, there are currently five buttons on your shirt. You must remove one or add another before I can allow you access to the base."

"You _do_ know that I have five fingers on each hand, right? And five toes on each foot?"

"Oh dear." Pause. "Do you think I could get authorization from Prime to rid you of two fingers and two toes?"

* * *

><p>"Hey, Red."<p>

"Oh dear Primus. It's _you_."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I'm hurt, Red."

"It IS a bad thing! Do you know how much paperwork I end up doing after every encounter with you?"

"You know you like it."

"…Stop that. What is that thing you're doing with your eyebrows? It looks suspicious."

"What, you mean…._this_?"

"YES, THAT."

"Or did you mean…_this_."

"AND that. I'm banning both as of this exact moment. So kindly refrain from allowing your eyebrows to make any sudden movements, or I'll be forced to shave them off."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Red?"<p>

…

"Red?"

…

"Dude, I know you can hear me. I'm standing right next to you."

"….Redalert is not here at the moment. Please leave a message after the beep. BEEP."

"Well, since you're obviously not here, I might as well not bother to tell you that the twins have TP'ed the rec room again and replaced all the bottles of shampoo with purple hair dye."

"I KNEW IT! That pair of heathens are Decepticon sympathizers!"

"….Um, on second thought, I don't think you're really going to need that big gun. No seriously, put it down. It's bigger than you are."

* * *

><p>"I am a lying frog. Everything I say is a lie. I'm lying to you right now."<p>

"Wait, that doesn't-! …..I hate you. You DO know that, right?"

* * *

><p>"Don't listen to them."<p>

"Who?"

"Whatever you do, don't take the cake."

"…am I to assume from your nonsensical speech that you have inhaled some sort of carcinogen?"

"Don't do it. Don't take it."

"You are forcing me to do this- ::Bumblebee, come retrieve your human. It's babbling again. And have Ratchet examine its brain::"

"_The cake is a lie."_

::Bumblebee, get down h-:: "Wait, how can the cake be a lie?"

"Because it's a lie."

"…oh Primus. Don't tell me the Decepticons are plotting to destroy us with bombs hidden in confectionary sweets!"

"You know, I DID see Lennox put this big chocolate cake in the rec room fridge yesterday…"

"…_I knew it."_

* * *

><p>"The posting of any signs is strictly prohibited in this area."<p>

"But Red, this isn't a sign."

"It's a portrayal of a mythological creature printed on a piece of paper. I do believe that counts as a sign."

"No really, this isn't a sign."

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing."

"…I'm not falling for one of your cruel tricks again."

"But Red, aren't we all just atoms at the end of the day? And atoms are made up of subatomic particles, which are in turn made up of mass-less bursts of energy—which, essentially, makes the entire universe no more than a series of random bursts of energy that are each indistinguishable from one another. And since they have no mass and no volume, they logically cannot exist as anything more than _thought_ of existence. But even thoughts don't actually exist, we just _think_ they exist—"

**Later**

"Dude, why is RedAlert just staring at that My Little Pony poster?"

"I don't know, but he's been standing there for the last four hours."

"…You bring your camera?"

"Bitch, _please_."

"Excellent."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: How to successfully torment the leader of the Autobots, by Sam, Lennox, and the gang.

Warning: Pure crack. I take no responsibly for any unwanted side effects caused by reading this story.

* * *

><p>"Are you certain this is necessary, Captain Lennox?"<p>

"Optimus, you guys were running around _Chernobyl_, for crying out loud. You're covered in radioactive dust."

"I have already submitted myself to five consecutive power-rinses."

"One more won't hurt."

"….The nozzle in your hand is delivering metallic paint designed specifically for scratch resistance. _Not_ water."

"Weeell, you know… pink really _IS_ your color."

* * *

><p>"It is of the upmost importance that we continue to cooperate in the spirit of—"<p>

"_Pika."_

"…What was that sound?"

"What sound? We didn't hear anything."

"_Pika."_

"There it is again."

"Optimus, are you sure you're feeling okay? Shake anything important loose during your, uh, _late night spar_ with Ironhide?"

"_Whoa_, hold the phone, Sam! Are you saying Ironhide and the big guy….?"

"_Pika."_

"No. Way."

"Yes way."

"That anomalous noise is well within the hearing range of humans. Unless you have damaged your aural nerves, you must be able to hear it."

"Trying to deflect us won't work, Optimus. So spill it—what have you naughty mechs been getting up to? We want aaaalllll the details."

"Oh, this is going to be good."

"_Pika."_

"…The two of you either sustained brain damage during our last encounter with Decepticons, or you are trying to pull some sort of diabolical trick. I will not allow myself to be held hostage in this manner."

"_Dude_. That is so kinky."

"…er, I don't think I want _that_ much detail, Optimus."

"_Pikachu!"_

"…I am sorely tempted to hate you both."

* * *

><p>"Are you certain this is the correct way to perform the universal greeting?"<p>

"Positive. Spread your fingers just a little bit wider…perfect. Now when you meet the president, what are you going to say?"

"Live long and prosper."

* * *

><p>"<em>Dear Optimus—<em>

_You are the sexiest beast this side of the galaxy. My cores overload whenever I see you with that big gun. I'd love to rub my exhaust pipe all over your shiny hood. Maybe we can get together and make a sparkling._

_Rawr._

_-Ironhide."_

"….sometimes you scare me, Sam."

* * *

><p>"…Now the sign should about seven feet tall, with the words 'Prime for President' written across the top. In really big letters."<p>

"Certainly. But if I may ask…why is Optimus pink in this photograph? And what is that strange gesture he is making with his hand?"

"…Don't ask questions you don't really want to know the answer to, Wheeljack."

* * *

><p>"Sam."<p>

"Hmm?"

"There is a small, fiber-filled yellow creature in my trailer."

"…Aw, how sweet. But you know, Optimus, pets aren't allowed on base. Make sure Red doesn't see it."

"It is not a pet. And it most certainly isn't alive."

"_Pika!"_

"…Sounds like your pet is hungry, Optimus."

"It is _not_ my pet."

"_Chu…chu…"_

"Wow. Way to be harsh, dude. You made it cry."

"Sam, it is an inanimate children's toy. It cannot cry."

"_Chu…chu…"_

"Sounds like it's crying to me."

"….I'm beginning to strongly suspect that you are involved in this somehow."

"Me? I'm hurt, Optimus. _I'm_ not the one making your poor, unloved pet cry."

"That _thing_ is not my pet. It is a stuffed replica of a cartoon character. And someone has used Wheeljack's experimental super-bonding gel to attach it to my weapons rack."

…

"Sam."

"….Hm?"

"You have yellow fibers stuck to your shirt. With super-bonding gel."

"…What's your point?"

"_Pikachu!"_

"….You can't prove anything."


End file.
